


The Disciple of Jashin

by Tetsuko1968



Category: Naruto
Genre: Akatsuki - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Abuse, F/M, Hidan grew up in a cult, Jashinism, Jashinism is a cult, M/M, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, traumatic flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tetsuko1968/pseuds/Tetsuko1968
Summary: Hidan has been shoved from foster family to foster family ever since the cult he grew up in; the notorious and murderous Disciples of Jashin, were destroyed. Since then, he is the problem child with an endless list of behavioural problems noone wants to take care of. A few months before he will finally turn 18 and be able to ruin his life in different and more or less fun ways, he moves to Baltimore and gets introduced to his new foster sister and her friend group: the Akatsuki.Apart from several people he considers weird enough, a particular boy named Kakuzu catches his attention. Will Hidan finally be able to have stable relationships and happiness in his life or is he really as hopeless as the world wants him to believe?
Relationships: Deidara/Sasori (Naruto), Hidan/Kakuzu (Naruto), Hoshigaki Kisame/Uchiha Itachi, Konan/Yahiko (Naruto), Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language.

Hidan could not wait any longer for the day he would finally turn 18, just to be able to escape the horrific chaos that called itself “the foster system”. It had been 6 years and 12 different families. Currently, he was taken on a car ride with the mother of family number 13.   
Soon, Hidan thought hopefully, he could live on his own and ignore the fake love and empathy of older people who pretended to be his parents. To be honest, the best ones were those who did not know about his history. Who just thought he was a no-good teenager with a strong hatred of authority and probably some sort of undiagnosed ADHD or antisocial personality disorder. However, the bad ones were those who knew about the cult. Maybe because some social worker had unfortunately informed them or because they recognized him from that disgusting, capitalist shit documentary some news report had made, featuring video tapes of a younger version of him. The others at least treated him like a poorly raised kid without manners, instead of trying to heal his traumas by giving him sorry looks or advising him to do crystal healing therapy with some crazy aunt who lived in Romania.   
Whether the Fletchers knew, he had absolutely no idea. Who the fuck wanted to adopt a 17-year old on the verge of 18, anyway? The woman sitting in the driver’s seat appeared to be fortyish, wore her hair in a brunette bun and had giant, Jeffrey Dahmer looking glasses on her nose. Her name had been Karen or Carol or something similar sounding. Just some average, American housewife. She looked like somebody who would at least know how to cook.   
“So, Hidan. Have you ever been to Baltimore?”, she asked in an annoyingly high-pitched voice.   
“No.”  
“But you have probably lived in many different places already.”  
“Oh yeah, for sure. Last ones kicked me out because I set their ugly-ass living room carpet on fire.”  
Hidan couldn’t see the look on her face, but if would certainly be funny. If he was destined to be the problem child anyway, he could at least have some fun and spread chaos and shock people everywhere he went.   
“Listen, Hidan. We just wanna help you. My husband Jerry is a psychiatrist and we think it is really important to help kids like you, who were let down by the system and never learned how to cope with their struggles. You can still become a functioning member of society.”  
“Fuck you, Karen! I am never going to be a productive member of society!”  
She sighed loudly and continued sticking her eyes to the road, after quickly turning her head around to look at Hidan with a raised, ugly, hand-drawn eyebrow.   
After another hour of hopelessly staring out of the window, comforting himself with the thought that every minute passing was one minute closer to his 18th birthday, they arrived in front of a blue house with white ornaments, giving the house a sort of Swedish, Ikea boho vibe.   
“Come on, Hidan, I want to introduce you to the fam”, Karen shouted, after jumping out of the car and unlocking the door. She brought him to the dining room, with mint green walls, an army of house plants and a painting that looked like it was painted by that one crazy dutch dude who cut off his own fucking ear. He forgot what his name was.   
The husband, who wore even uglier glasses than his wife and suffered extreme hair loss, thanks to which he looked like a monk, greeted him with a weird, Christian missionary smile. Gosh, he didn’t want to be here. Next to him was a little Latino boy, two white kids with dirty-blond hair, probably brother and sister, who looked a little bit like they would murder Hidan in his sleep, and a teenaged Asian girl with hair dyed purple.   
“This is my husband Jerry, little Camilo from Cuba, Virgil and Prudence who are my deceased cousin’s kids, and our oldest, Konan, from beautiful Japan.”  
Oh. So they were this kind of family. Rich, upper class, infertile man and woman who wanted to present as unique, benevolent and tolerant. That’s why they adopted two none-white kids. Out of poor goodness of the heart and to show how anti-colonial they are. And then, they also took the kids of dead relatives in even though they probably would have preferred drowning over staying with their crazy aunt Karen McHipster mom. And Hidan, of course, a boy abandoned by the government, pushed form incapable family to incapable family, mentally-ill and too old to be a cute baby, was the one thing that was still lacking in their image of literal fucking angels who wanted to crawl up god’s asshole so bad, they had halos around their heads. They wanted Hidan because they wanted to prove to themselves that they were so woke and inclusive, that they could heal even a fucked-up antisocial rat like him. And if it didn’t work out, he would be old enough to move out and not be their problem anymore, anyway. Lucky for them.  
No one had had the nerves to keep Hidan for more than one year. But he didn’t care anyway. Someone like him could not have a normal life, ever, again. Just like all of his psycho docs had pointed out, he had severe post traumatic stress disorder and an inability to form lasting, meaningful connections with people because of how much he was hurt. It didn’t fucking matter that I was 6 years ago, that all the scars had faded, that he had a new surname, new surroundings, new everything. He had lived in 7 different U.S. states, in South Africa, Spain and his home country, Australia. The demons still haunted him, and they would continue until he would rot in his grave. Or maybe, if dad was right all along, he was immortal and they would make his life a nightmare for ever.   
Ater dinner, Hidan stared down at his plate the entire time and tried not to converse with the Flechters, Karen showed him his room. It was tiny, had a bed, wardrobe and desk, all in some expensive looking wood and walls as white as a sheet. Hidan threw his clothes in the wardrobe, threw his school books in a corner and took his Joker poster out, sticking it on the wall above his bead. He didn’t have that many material possessions. But there was one thing he feared and treasured at the same time: his secret files. There were pictures and written observations of the cult, a copy of a very long essay some behavioral scientist had written about them and Hidan’s own psychological file. They had been the disciples of Jashin. Followers of the only true god.   
His father, a Sydney man named Everett Scott, had travelled across Asia as a young man and learned a lot about spirituality. His own parents had been strictly Christian, and he had always had a close connection to god. But as a young man, while praying with the shintoists in a temple, he was given a prophecy of god. But, as it turned out, he was not the Christian god of his past, but a new divine figure: Jashin. Jashin spoke to him, gave him the gift of immortality and dictated to him the rules of Jashinism, the new religion he was to found. However, Jashin is no peaceful and forgiving god. He loves violence, that is why there is so much suffering in the world. As a jashinist, it was dad’s duty to convert followers and sacrifice everyone who was against them. Back in Australia, he convinced about 20 people to follow his religion in the next few years. Mother also supported his new status as prophet of the one true god.   
Then, Hidan was born. They moved into the desert, so that nobody would be able to complain about ‘em. Whenever some travellers came along their way, they asked them if they wanted to convert and if they declined, the cult would sacrifice them. Hidan didn’t know how many were killed, but according to the official conviction, the number was 34. Of course, he had been afraid of his dad, because he was strict and cruel, but he never felt bad about the victims. They had been worthless in his eyes. Pleasing Jashin had always been his only priority. Then, the criminal activities of the Jashinist cult were discovered and all adult members of the disciples of Jashin were convicted and imprisoned. Both his mom and his dad were given life sentences. After the trial, he had visited them once or twice while he was still living in Australia, but then he was adopted by a Californian family, because, according to his dogshit psychotherapists, he had to move away from the place and the people that caused his trauma. In America, the disciples of Jashin at least weren’t as well known as they were in Australia. To his luck, Hidan didn’t resemble the long haired, tiny 12-year old anymore. Instead, he had a muscular build for his age, a strong jawline, and short, silver hair with a lot of gel in it. His first name was not known to the public, otherwise, the authorities would have given him another one.   
At first, he had still been a firm believer in Jashinism. Afraid of punishment because he didn’t stop the cops from getting his father and destroying everything. Now, he wasn’t even sure if Jashin existed. But he was still to frightened not to pray to him at least once a day.   
He still always wore his necklace his father had made for him as a little boy, bearing the symbol of their god. A triangle in a circle, made out of sterling silver. It was no ordinary symbol and unless somebody excessively researched murderous cults for some weird reason, it was unrecognizable. Despite that, he wore it under his shirt. Nobody deserved to know about his treasure, or his past. Boys didn’t usually wear weird necklaces on the daily basis and he didn’t want to get any questions. Now, he put it beneath a pile of clothes, because he wanted to take a shower.   
Hidan left his room and opened a few doors, looking for the bathroom. All the other rooms in this house had the same disgusting hipster vibes he expected, the goddamn bathroom even had plants on the window sill. The toilet looked like it was the creation of some modern art psychopath; there were colorful shapeless dots painted on it. What the literal fuck was up with these people? Hidan would be glad when he could finally move out and start living under some bridge because he didn’t have any money. And the Fletchers would soon learn to hate him and not want to give any of their fortune to him. But Hidan didn’t care. Nothing in this world mattered to him in the slightest. He never cared about what he did or what happened to him, he was way to oblivious towards everything to even consider killing himself though. Not as long as there were still people out there to annoy. Someday, he would end up rotting in prison, just like his crazy parents.   
He put on the water and took a burning-hot shower. It relaxed him a little. It was only seven in the afternoon, but he would probably just go in his room and stare at the ceiling for the next hours instead of sleeping.


	2. Chapter 2

After Hidan finished his shower, the Japanese girl knocked on his door.  
“Hey, Hidan. I just wanted to ask how you are and if I can do anything for you”, she smiled sympathetically, but in a more authentic way then her adoptive parents would.   
“We aren’t gonna be siblings, stop trying. I’m gonna get outta here as soon as I turn 18, maybe earlier. Piss off, whatever-your-name was.”  
“Mom and dad are going to force you to get along with you. They might not look like it, but they have experience with guys like you.”  
“Whatever. Then they know I’m hopeless.”  
“I’m seventeen too, we will go to the same school. Let me at least try to introduce you to some people you might like.”  
“Fuck your friends, bitch. If they don’t sell weed to kids and bring a knife to school I won’t like them.”  
The girl didn’t mind his insult and just smirked at him.   
“Believe me, my friends are a bunch weird enough. That one buddy of mine tried to build his own bombs and blow the school up, once.”  
“Cool. He in jail?”  
“No, his grandpa bought him out. He’s important in politics and stuff, ya know.”  
“I don’t go to school most of the time. But introduce me to that dynamite-kid.”  
“I will. My name’s Konan, by the way. Not that hard to remember, Hidan.”  
Finally, she left. His new foster sister was that kind of girl, apparently. Edgy-looking, Killstar wardrobe, manic-panic hair that makes all the boomers freak out and the personality of the nice girl form next door despite that. She was the mom friend of her group, probably, maybe even the only girl, and felt responsible for people like Hidan or dynamite-kid. Konan would be hard to get rid of, he sighed.   
He thought that he might actually want to know Konan’s friends, though. However, he would look for some junkies or gangsters who would buy him hard liquor and dope. School friends were useless. Especially if they were just some privileged upper-class kids only worried about their grades. Those people were literal demons on earth. A bunch that hated Hidan anyway, because they saw him as a useless criminal who was a nuisance to their everyone around him.   
Hidan did not sleep a single minute that night. He went into the kitchen and just muttered the words; coffee. Karen was nice enough to make him one. She also gave him a bowl of cornflakes.   
“Can you not make your own breakfast?”, the little Cuban kid asked. Hidan guessed that he was 5 or 6. The question was not condescending, but a child’s curiosity. Mostly, he thought little children to be annoying. But in most families, the kids were still the most bearable members. The horror movie twins just stared at their food and didn’t speak a word, Konan was having small talk with Jerry and Karen. Hidan didn’t listen. To drive them to school, Karen used a different car than she had driven yesterday: a VW bus with enough seats for all of them. The father, apperently, worked at home and his patients visited him in his private living room thingie. It probably had vintage bookshelves and a psychoanalysis couch in it. Hidan sincerely hoped that the guy wouldn’t want to treat him, but he knew better. His last therapist had given him pills, at least. But he stopped going there because he could get the stuff cheaper on the streets and talking was useless, since he was too reluctant to talk about the cult.   
After bringing Camilo to Kindergarten and the creepy twins with the ghost faces to their school, Karen set him and Konan free in front of an ugly, grey modern-architectured building that had the name Sarutobi Private High School written onto it in metallic letters. Oh shit. A private school. In his head, Hidan debated whether they would just throw him out after one week or if the Fletchers would stuff their mouths with money until he was untouchable. He prayed it would be option umber one. Everyone who attended this school was probably a rich snob. Cocaine-people, maybe? That seemed fine, too. Hidan was usually too poor for the white stuff, but maybe he could talk Karen into giving him a ton of pocket money.   
Konan led him directly to the headmaster’s office, who was a ninety-year-old almost dying of a heart attacking looking dude. Mr. Sarutobi gave him his time table and the combination to his new locker. Then, his immensely practical foster sister showed him where the biology class was. Hidan went in there, let the teacher talk to him without listening and then chose a seat in the last row, napping a little to gain some sleep he had lost last night. The bell awoke him one and a half hour later.   
Konan was thoughtful enough to pick him up after class and introduced them to the spot her clique usually spent the breaks. It was a bunch of stones next to a tree and a few ranks of poison ivy, that gave the place a wild and unkept aura that did not fit to the rest of the overly-clean school.   
8 boys were sitting on the stones and talking. Hidan tried to look at each of them and make a picture in his head. The guy that immediately stood up to hug Konan was tall, handsome, and had spiky ginger hair. Next to him sat an extremely pale boy with hair dyed blood-red and at shoulder length. Another one was Asian, pretty apart from his gigantic eyebags and had long hair in a ponytail. The next was tall, well-trained and probably Polynesian or Hawaiian or something. A feminine-looking boy with long, full, blond hair, a grim-looking, tiny redhead, another Asian guy with a facial scar and messy black hair. The boy furthest from him was probably African American, had long, dark-brown hair and green eyes with extremely visible red veins. If he wouldn’t look so serious rich-kid like, Hidan would’ve assumed him to be a stoner. Maybe he just didn’t sleep or had an ugly case of conjunctivitis. The guy gave him an angry, arrogant look as he saw Hidan’s staring.   
“So, guys, this is my parent’s new adoptee, Hidan. Hidan, these are my friends Yahiko, Nagato, Itachi, Kisame, Sasori, Deidara, Tobi and Kakuzu.” She pointed at each of them. Funny, he thought, that he had guessed right about Miss Purple. She did only have male friends, apparently. The ginger dude, Yahiko, was probably her boyfriend.   
“So, which one of you is dynamite-kid?”, he asked curiously.   
“You know me already? Good to know that I’m famous at the Fletcher’s house.”, the blond one said. He had a wild sparkle in his big, blue eyes, promising a chaotic companion.   
“Yeah, Konan told me about the bomb thing. Let’s make stuff explode when we hang out some time.”  
The sinister-eyed redhead sighed loudly and put his head in his palm.   
“Stop encouraging him even more, new kid.”, Kisame said jokingly.   
“Sounds great, Hidan! Always nice to meet more admirers.”, Deidara flipped his ridicoulusly long Rapunzel hair from one side to the other and smirk at him. Was he flirting? Hopefully not.   
While Deidara seemed like a guy who was crazy enough to be likable, his effeminate manner made him seem like he was gay. Not that Hidan was a homophobe, he couldn’t care less about other people’s sexual activities. Thinking about the topic made him vaguely uncomfortable, though, because, ah, well… deep down he knew he was a little bit bicurious.   
Last summer, he had made out with some schoolmate who had bought him weed, and his ugly redneck stepfather had pointed a gun at them and yelled something about fags burning in hell. The poor boy had gotten a very nasty beating from his old man and Hidan could only escape because he was fast enough. After this less than unfortunate experience, Hidan did not really want to relive something like that. Like, there hadn’t been any consequences for him, but still his weird brain considered this shit more dramatic than when the quarterback of the school team had beat him up for fucking his cheerleader girlfriend. Or that one time he wanted to go to a domina, but she threw him out screaming something about her not being a pedophile in front of a huge crowd because she assumed correctly that he was underage. She couldn’t be blamed for that, really.  
Well, in conclusion, his sex life was always a fucking disaster, nobody wanted to have a long term relationship with a mentally unstable asshole like him. Hidan knew the rich private school kids would hate him, anyway, once they got to know him.  
Apart from that, though: ”Sorry, Deidara, I’m really not into blondes.”  
A true statement, at least.   
Deidara glanced at him, angrily.  
“Wouldn’t want your ugly ass, anyway.”, he responded. Then, he started laughing. Didn’t seem to be too insulted by Hidan misreading communication signs, the only skill he had to offer, though utterly useless.   
Great, you worthless fuck, already offending everyone at day 1. You never disappoint.  
The others stared at him in confusion. The private school Rastafari was looking at him as though he was one of those dumb trailer park junkies everybody laughed about on reality TV. Obito and Nagato were trying to suppress smirks of amusement. Sasori had disappeared, apparently. Purplehead was shaking her head. Kisame and Itachi exchanged an amused glance.   
“In case you were more into dark-haired people, Itachi is already taken.”, Himbo beach boy said. He gave him a kiss on the cheek. Yikes.   
If Hidan would have even an ounce of shame in his body, this situation, where he embarrased himself in front of some strangers, would be extremely uncomfortable. Oh, how great that he didn’t care about anything.   
“Hidan, you are so cringy. Seriously”, Konan stated, shaking her head.  
“And I thought your other siblings were weird.”, Yahiko said.  
“Oh, come on, we’ll never be siblings. You are going to be glad about that, believe me.”  
He felt a little bit bad about lashing out at Konan like this, she was a nice girl, actually, and that was exactly the reason why she shouldn’t associate with him.   
The bell saved him from making this situation worse than it already was, and he went back to class.


	3. Chapter 3

After school, Hidan immediately went into his room and sincerely hoped that the Flechters wouldn’t force him to sit with them and eat their disgusting looking healthy meals. Hidan believed his body to be incapable of digesting anything that was not fast food and hadn’t spend a decent amount of time in a deep fat frier. Around noon, Konan insisted he give her his phone number. He gave in and saw a few minutes later that he had gotten a “hi” with a smiling emoji from the girl. Her profile picture showed her in a gothic costume, giving her the vibe of a vampire queen from a Hollywood movie. Below that, a quote from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. What an interesting personality she was.   
She also put him into a WhatsApp group with the ominous name Akatsuki. It was probably the one Konan and her weird all-male friend group had. Wasn’t it nice that he immediately got accepted into the circle? Next time, he should put more effort into pissing them all off.   
Hidan decided to knock on Konan’s door and ask her why the group had such a weird name.   
“You guys into some kind of cult or why does the name of the group sound like it is some spiritual codeword?”  
“It means red moon in Japanese. You know, Itachi and Obito are cousins and they’re both from Japan, just like me. We thought it sounded poetic.”  
“Oh, Itachi sure sounds like some gay poet.”  
She punched him in the guts. Ok, he sure as hell deserved it.  
“Oww.”  
“What’s your problem, anyway, Hidan? You a closeted homosexual yourself, or something? That why you’re such a bastard?”  
Yeah. Fuck yeah. He was a bastard. Finally, someone recognized it.   
“Your daddy’s my new psychiatrist, girl. Ask him what’s wrong with me. Or ask him what’s wrong with him for taking me in the first place”, he burst out laughing. “I mean literally- sis- literally, that was a bad fucking decision. You should waste your money on someone you can actually help.”  
“Hidan, maybe we can help you. I don’t know what you went through, and you don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable about it. You should just… use the opportunity.”  
Oh no. Her mom friend instincts were kicking. She’ll be glad when Hidan finally turned 18 and moved out, because he would’ve driven the whole family crazy by then. 

To Hidan’s huge dismay, he was forced to attend a therapy session with the great Dr. Jerry Flechter, who had, apparently, written a book about mental health in children - a copy of it was sitting in his book shelf. His working room had the same Freudian flair Hidan had expected. Such rooms brought back some very uncomfortable memories of his earliest therapy sessions back in Sydney, a fucking lifetime ago. The pain, anxiety and anger he had felt towards the world, because they had taken everything from him. How many hours he had spent, crying and raging, throwing temper tantrums like a toddler and throwing insults at the doctors. Fuck Jerry for thinking he was doing him a favor by making him relive all of this.   
“So, Hidan. Have you ever worked with a mental health expert before?”  
“Ya, I have like 101 different diagnoses with stupid names.”  
“Well, you are somebody who was spent a lot of time in the foster system, with many different families, you were constantly moving around and did not have the opportunity to bond with people. This is probably an explanation for your deviant behavior. Tell me, how was your life like before you were adopted by an American family? I read that you grew up in Australia, were you already living with Foster parents back then?”  
Fuck you, Jerry, Hidan thought. All of that what happened to him in Australia bullshit was not part of his files for a reason. To protect his identity and not affect him negatively in life if it should get public knowledge that he was the son of a criminal cult leader, responsible for murdering a bunch of people.   
“None, of your business, leave me alone. I don’t need your help.”  
“Hidan, I really do think that you need our help. Karen and I knew that it would be hard for you to assimilate into the family and we don’t expect it to work out immediately. We will do our best to make it as easy for you as possible, but if we want this family to succeed, you have to at least try to give me an insight.”  
“What makes you think I am happy with this arrangement? I am unfortunately a minor and I don’t know how I’ve managed not to end up in juvie yet, but somehow I didn’t. I don’t want any of this! I definitely don’t want to talk about my past with arrogant bastards who don’t know shit about what being me is like!”  
Jerry took a deep breath and looked at him calmy. Hidan was feeling more and more aggressive. The past few days had been shitty. No opportunity to blow off steam. If the old man continued giving him the I-just-wanna-help-you eyes, he would punch his fucking teeth out.   
“I do think that it will be beneficial to you if you talk to me. We do not need to start with your childhood if you are uncomfortable about it. So, how about your future? What do you want to do? Where do you see yourself in 5 years?”  
Hidan shrugged. Honestly… dead. A junkie? A homicidal maniac? Who knew, who cared? What use was there in thinking about a future that had nothing to offer? His grades were horrible because he barely attended school and never paid attention. He didn’t have any hobbies, unless doing drugs and watching Anime counted. He didn’t have a person important to him. The Fletchers were just a bunch of superficially nice upper class people who were the exact opposite of what he could respect. His life was fucking empty. The only worthy thing he ever had was the cult. The remaining disciples of Jashin were all imprisoned, another huge chunk of them dead.   
Religion was something very important to many people, but Hidan had been stripped of the ability to practice his. Just killing people wasn’t enough to be a proper Jashinist. He couldn’t perfom any rituals, didn’t have the sacred grounds of the Outback desert available to him. And he would never become part of some pussy religion like Christianity or Buddhism that were about peace and love and all those stupid, unrealistic ideas. Hidan didn’t have shit to be alive for.   
He just remained quiet and after a while, Jerry gave up. When no one was watching, Hidan sneaked out of the house in the evening. He wrote a message to Konan, telling her he needed to buy something in the city. Not like he had any money. But, he would get himself some.  
Back in South Africa, he had been friends with a few orphaned or abandoned street kids who had taught him some valuable lessons in the art of pickpocketing and burglary. Hidan knew exactly how he needed to bump into people and put a hand into their bags, quickly grab the purse and vanish into the crowd. It was a matter of seconds, and the victim wouldn’t realise something had happened until he was gone, around the next corner.   
Sadly, Hidan didn’t know the city yet and would first need to find the spots to buy drugs. Whatever, he thought, he was in desperate need of some alcohol. A lot of it. He came across an ominous-looking liquor shop in a small street in one of the less pretty neighborhoods. The purse he stole also contained an ID, but he unfortunately couldn’t pretend to be a 30-year old lady. Sometimes, though, he was lucky, because he looked older than he actually was. He just walked into the shop, looked at the grim latino cashier and thought that the guy probably would not care if he gave him some extra money.   
Hidan picked up two bottles of vodka and a can of Jack Daniels. Then, he ordered two packs of cigarettes, of a brand he usually found disgusting but didn’t really care about that now for lack of a better alternative. Because he was also hungry, he bought two bags of chips with chili flavor, hoping they would be hot enough to burn his tongue and not some of that crap with almost no capsaicin in it. The pussies who bought that stuff should just accept that they were to sensitive for the good stuff and not force the economy to make every chili product safe for them.  
“Could you please show your ID to confirm you’re at least 21 years old?”  
21? Fuck Maryland. Those bastards.   
“Look, I forgot my ID, but I am willing to pay 250 dollars if you let me get away with it.”  
The purse, luckily, contained that much cash. And this dude looked like he and his shop could definitely use some money.”  
“Don’t get in trouble, kid. And don’t expect to get anything from me when you show up again.”  
“Thank you very much, Mister!”  
Oh, how annoying. Next time, he would have to find an adult to buy him alcohol. Fuck this bullshit state. Fuck this bullshit world.   
He would just have to look for a quiet place now, he obviously couldn’t go to the Fletcher’s because they would confiscate his booze immediately. After a while, Hidan found a little park and sat next to the bushes. There was no one around and it was already getting dark.   
Hidan opened the first bottle on a park bench and started drinking. Then, he positioned himself on the bench, ripped the first bag of chips open and threw them in his mouth, while simultaneously trying to drink his vodka. He had a pretty high tolerance when it came to alcohol, but after a while, the heat in his throat transformed into his entire body and he stopped feeling the coldness of this freezing February evening. All the anger of the past few days was gone, he just felt awesome. This was the best feeling ever, sitting drunk, alone on a park bench without even knowing where exactly he was. His head started spinning. At first, he didn’t realize that there were two shadows in his vision.  
“Hey kid, this is our place! Get the fuck outta here!”, a voice yelled.   
Hidan was too confused to understand why somebody was angry with him. He wasn’t doing anything, right? Just sitting here in peace, like a civilized alcoholic.   
“Calm down, man, I’m not doing anything. Oi, do you guys know where I can buy weed?”  
He heard loud laughter from the blurred creatures.  
“I’m warning you, we don’t want strangers getting drunk on our territory.   
The voice started to sound more and more aggressive, Hidan became aware of the man’s angry glance but didn’t really care either. Well, until he felt a punch landing in his face. Screaming in pain, he tried to hit back and kick his opponent, but to no avail. He was way to wasted for his limbs to still obey his orders. He should just go.  
Hidan grumbled and started walking in the opposite direction. The last bottle was empty, so he threw it on the ground and heard the glass shattering. Then, he touched his face and saw a stripe of blood on his finger, probably from his nose. It hurt only a little bit. Hidan was walking on the pavement again, because he saw the colorful lightning flashes of cars racing by and the yellow glimmer of the street lanterns. His mind was enjoyably empty. God, had he needed this.  
After a while of walking down the street in an unknown city, having no fucking clue where he was even headed and if he could find the way home again in his condition, he felt like he was slowly, very slowly, sobering up. Until he could think relatively clearly again.  
Should he write a text to Konan, tell her that he was still alive and that he would probably be back tomorrow sometime? Nah. Who cared? Hidan took a look at his phone, it was just a few minutes after midnight. That stupid Karen hadn’t given him a curfew. Not that he gave a fuck about rules.   
The main street he had been on ended, apparently, and had turned into a small city quarter, with tiny lanes and ugly, low-quality houses. Many of them looked like you would freeze to death in there in a cold February night like this one. This was probably the ghetto or something, where the poor black people in this racist shit city lived. But, not like he knew anything about it. He had lived in a trailer park for a short time, so he knew what it was like to have nothing. And he also knew that it didn’t feel the tiniest bit better to live with arrogant upper-class bastards like the Fletcher’s – poor people were the better companions, in Hidan’s humble opinion. Usually, they didn’t despise him that much. Ok, well, probably, they still did.   
Suddenly, he heard the motor of a car, driving next to him and stopping on the sidewalk a few meters away, in front of an unsightly grey house with several floors and the most hideous-looking dead lawn Hidan had ever seen. Weirdly enough, the driver didn’t leave the car, but just sat in there and glanced at him suspiciously. As though he looked like he didn’t fit here, which was probably true. Or it was his tipsy walk and blood-covered face. Hidan decided to take a step towards the marode blue car and complain to the guy for his staring. However, the guy finally opened the front door and walked towards Hidan himself.  
In this moment, he realized that he already knew who this was: one of Konan’s friends from school. The black one. Oh yeah. What was his name? Something weird with a K, sounded a little bit like an illness.   
Stoner-eye was looking at him in confusion: ”Aren’t you Konan’s new foster brother? What are you doing here, in the middle of the night?”, his deep voice sounded both skeptical and pissed-off at the same time.   
“I dunno, drunk, no idea where I’m going to. Forgot your name by the way. Could you be so nice to remind me?”  
“I’m Kakuzu. And you better get your ass home, Hidan. It’s dangerous here at this time of the day. You shouldn’t just be strolling around here, especially alone. Or do so and don’t be surprised when you wake up with a knife in your stomach.”  
“So, you live in this shithole, all while being on this opulent rich people private school for white kids?”  
“Fuck off, Hidan. You know nothing about my life.”  
“Yeah, true.”  
“What? Why are you standing there like you’re expecting me to drive you home? I’m not your nanny.”  
Those were your words, dude, not mine.   
“Aww, Kakuzu, pretty please with sugar on top? Please drive me home? I’m lost in this big foreign city, help me, you strong man”, he was squeaking in a high-pitched voice.  
Kakuzu’s thick eyebrows were drawn together in an angry expression. He was balling his hands into fists, until he seemed to calm down a little and took out his cellphone. Next, he dialed a number: ”Hey, Konan, it’s Kakuzu here. Please do me a favour and pick your brother Hidan up, he’s completely wasted and standing in front of my house, with blood on his face. Surely, you don’t want my neighbors to feel threatened and bring their guns?”  
He was saying this sentence with the biggest amount of cynicism possible.   
“Come pick up your parent’s new adoption experiment, before I shoot him for looking at me like an idiot, please.”  
“So, you won’t drive me home, Kakuzu? That’s not particularly nice, you know that?”  
“Why would I be nice to you?”  
“I thought you were a charming gentleman, those green eyes look like they are trying to seduce me into asking where you buy your weed.”  
“I don’t consume cannabis. And I seriously hope you are not trying to flirt with me, because you are seriously making yourself look like the dumbest man alive.”  
Again, you said flirt, not me.  
Well, Hidan had to admit, that Kakuzu wasn’t ugly. Just that he would’t admit it, because he wasn’t gay. He was just too drunk to remember this little fact about himself.   
“For a ghetto boy, your speech is quite sophisticated.”  
“As I already said, you don’t know anything about me. If I see you around here again, I will murder you with my bare hands.”  
“Don’t worry, in two months, I’m outta here.”  
“Oh, how am I going to survive this?”  
It was very fortunate that it didn’t take Karen long to drive here. She had probably disregarded every traffic rule in existence to appear that quickly. But, why would he give a damn if she had a car accident?  
Hidan swung himself on the backseat and looked at Karen’s worried face in the rearview mirror.   
“Why are you running away? We were worried sick.”  
Hidan shrugged. Seriously, he wasn’t going to answer these kinds of questions. There were no satisfying answers. It was her own fault for taking Hidan into her home and she would learn to despise him soon enough. They all did. And would be glad if they never had to see him again. Maybe she’d even do it like Mrs. Jones from Mississippi and cut him out/ draw over him with a black pen on all family pictures. He didn’t even pay attention to Karen complaining.


	4. Chapter 4

It was around 2 o’clock when Hidan finally lay in his bed. The feeling of drunkenness had almost vanished, but he still had the grandiose idea of asking Deidara about building bombs and making things explode. He seemed to be Konan’s only interesting friend, but a very interesting one at least. Luckily, Deidara was glad to show what he called his “art” to somebody who had the spirit to appreciate it. They made an appointment for the next afternoon.   
Hidan slept relatively well that night and would regret it soon enough, because of the nightmares still haunting him. In the past years, he had learned techinques to avoid and repress flashbacks of his traumatic past, but as soon as he dreamt, he was lost and at the mercy of his cruel memory.   
He was twelve again. It was the day after the cops had invaded their houses, found enough evidence to incriminate Everett Scott, his wife Cheryl and the other members of the disciples of Jashin of homicide and separated little Hidan from his family and the only place on earth he knew. Yes, he had been afraid of his father, always, since he was a man not afraid to whip him with a studded leather belt and punish everyone who didn’t obey, but he was only fulfilling the will of Jashin. And Jashin was the creator, protector and destroyer of humankind and the entire world. Hidan felt guilty for not swallowing the cyanide capsule his mother had given him and the other 4 children, who were hiding in the horse’s shed. He had committed treason against Jashin by not dying as a final sacrifice.   
Further, it was really embarrassing that he was constantly crying like a baby. The social workers were trying to soothe him, but were just making fools of themselves. Hidan didn’t need a lullaby sung to him, he needed everything to go back to normal.  
“My son, you are too young to go to prison, so they will try to force you to assimilate. Do not let them take control of your heart, since it belongs to our Lord Jashin and me as his prophet. This is why you and the others need to die. It is a vital part of the plan, Jashin will reward you for your loyalty in paradise. Make sure that everyone takes one of these pills. This is your last task as a servant of the one true god, Hidan, take it seriously.”  
Those were the last words his dad had said to him, now he was rotting in a prison cell without any power. Hidan was completely alone. The social worker, a fat, bold man, was making phone calls while driving.   
Hidan had never been in a car before, had never seen such a gigantic street before. His home had been the outback. Sydney was a strange and hostile place to him, the colorful flashes and loud traffic noises made his brain go fuzzy. The car parked in front of a luxurious, opulent white house with brown ornaments.   
“Listen kid, this is where your aunt Tessa Scott lives. She is your father’s sister.”  
“I don’t know her.”  
“Yes, but she is your closest relative, apart from your grandmother and uncle, but these two belong to the Jehova’s witnesses. The psychologists said that joining the next cult would be damaging to your mental health.”  
“What are the Jehova’s witnesses? And what is a psychologist?”  
“Well, you really used to live on the other side of the moon, boy.”  
He was taking Hidan into the house. The golden door was opened by a tall, stern-faced woman with silverish-white hair, pretty similar to his own, dressed in a blue business suit.   
“Mr., I already told you on the phone that I do not know this kid and I was 18 years old when I last saw my brother. Was it not enough that I escaped the Jehova’s witnesses and became a star lawyer despite it? Now, my brother is a convicted leader of a satanic cult and a serial killer? And they seriously ask me if I am going to defend him! I’ll be lucky if I don’t lose my reputation because of that skunk.”  
“Hey, you old witch, we aren’t satanic!”  
“So, you expect me to just adopt this random child, who is apparently my nephew, even though I am a single woman working full time who hates kids?”  
“Well, you are the closest relative. Your mother and brother Jason are not willing to take care of him because of their religious views and the docs are against giving him to the next group of religious extremists. Please, Miss Scott, we beg you to reconsider.”  
“What’s your name?”, she then asked Hidan with an artificial voice.  
“Hidan.”  
“Okay, I’m taking him in. But this is not a permanent solution. He will get a nanny or something.”  
After these promising words, the fat man just left him alone with aunt Tessa, who had a lot in common with his father’s manipulative ways and lack of empathy. No wonder he didn’t stay there long.   
Dreaming of aunt Tessa always made Hidan particularly uncomfortable, he thought, after waking up. She had been his first reminder of how unwelcome he was in this society. She just took him in temporarily because she was his closest suitable relative. His mother didn’t have family anymore, his grandma and uncle still lived in Syndney’s community of Jehova’s witnesses, as far as he knew. He had 5 cousins he had never seen and didn’t care to ever meet. According to a clinical analysis on his father’s psyche and murderous intentions, his childhood trauma from losing a sister in early childhood, having a mentally unstable mother who brought their family into religious extremism and his father committing suicide years after they met for the last time were the main reasons for why Everett Scott had such a huge hatred towards humanity, human dignity and peace. Instead, he embraced murder, violence and mind control. The “fictional” god Jashin gave him the justification to do all of these horrible things. Yes, yes, the horrible horrible killing spree of the Jashinist cult. Most people instinctively knew that murder was a bad thing, Hidan had probably known that ancient truth at some point in his early years as well, but actually seeing death, murder and sacrifice from a young age had desensitized him. His dad had always insisted that the children should watch the ceremony to show them how important and unreplacable the ritual was and to make them believe that it was normal and necessary. Hidan could make an extremely detailed mental image of every person he had seen dying, the expression on their face, the bloodflow, the smell of fear and sweat and excrements, the ritualistic pentagrams and skeleton make-up, the scythe his father had used to butcher them with, the blood of their victims they had drank. Many childood memories had a habit of fading into nothingness after a while, but he would never be able to forget anything about this. The feeling of ultimate power, closeness to Jashin’s beautiful creation and the union of their group. Them against the rest of the world. Them against the heathens out there, the people deserving of a brutal death. He would never be able to explain it to anyone who was not there with them, living on the farm complex of the disciples of Jashin and experiencing it all first-hand. The rituals had been to him what Christmas was to normal kids. But despite all the glory, it had been horrifying. The screams and tears, too awful to tolerate sometimes. Still, always forcing himself to comply, behave, make dad proud, impress the other members. His past was always there, behind a thin black vail, no matter how much he tried not to think about what lay behind, a blowing of wind was enough to rip it open.   
Explaining how terrible it felt was rotten work. It was the reason why he had such strong aversions against psychotherapy. No therapist could delete what lay behind the vail. Being put on medication was the best thing that could happen to him.   
Luckily, the next day and his meeting with Deidara helped him lift his spirits. The blond boy had invited him over at his house, his parents were at work. His father was a police officer and his mother worked at the local modern art gallery. Hence, it was filled with ugly cubistic paintings and Andy Warhol redraws, not really fitting Hidan’s taste. Some of the artworks, however, were clearly Deidara’s fault. He had a very specific pattern of painting colorful explosions and hand-crafting white clay sculptures of various animals. One even was a gigantic white dragon, randomly located in the living room in front of a copy of a famous Picasso.   
“So, Hidan. I bet you wanna see my explosives, yeah.”  
“Sure, that’s what I came for dude.”  
“Oh one thing, mmn. Actually, I am not a dude, if you know what I mean, yeah.”  
“Wait, what? You’re a girl? I mean, you look pretty feminine with the hair and all but you are clearly a man. Now I get it! You are one of those transvestites.”  
Hidan was shocked by this revelation. Deidara had long hair, big eyes and didn’t exactly wear the type of clothes a hetero guy would wear, but he had a dark voice and an Adam’s apple.   
“No, you’re getting it wrong, mmn. I’m non-binary. Do you know what that is?”  
“Ahh, wait, no.”  
“It means that I’m neither male nor female. But something in between, or both at the same time. I am definitely not a normal boy, but I also don’t feel like a woman.”  
“Ok, I don’t get it.”  
“You don’t have to. Just please don’t call me he. Use they instead.”  
Oh, so he, no they, were that kind of weird person. Snowflakes, or however you would call them on the internet.   
Not like Hidan cared, anyway. That was Deidara’s business. They were already strange enough with their explosion fetish and the constant repetitions of the words ‘yeah’ and ‘mmn’.   
Deidara led him to their room, were they were keeping a few shoe cartons filled with square sticks.   
“In the Iwa household, it is Silvester every fucking day of the year.”  
“Sounds like a good motto.”  
“Look, Hidan, those are my self-build bombs. I stole some of the materials from my chemistry class in school. They work extremely well. If you ever need to get rid of someone’s house, you can call me.”  
Hidan was taking a look around Deidara’s room. The walls were in a light mint green shade, the bed was huge and filled with cushions, a pride flag Hidan couldn’t identify hung above the bed. The shelves were filled with books about art and chemistry and on the door of his drawer hung a poster of Britney Spears and one of Salvador Dali. The confusing energy fitted their personality really well. The wall was covered in photographs, one showing Deidara with their family, a little girl, and some photos and polaroids of the Akatsuki. The biggest, however, showed Deidara and Sasori, in middle school age, apparently standing in an art gallery. In general, the number of Sasoris hanging on the walls in this room was suspiciously huge.   
Deidara was sprinting joyfully out of the room once they had collected all the explosives. Hidan was following. On their way, a girl was strolling around the floor. She was the one in Deidara’s childhood picture. She looked completely opposite from her brother, or rather, sibling. Her hair was jet-black and she wore it in a short bob, her skin was paler, her bones more delicate and her eyes as dark as her hair. She wore a red summer dress, even though it was motherfucking January.   
“Hidan, this is my little sister, Kurotsuchi.”  
She nodded her slim, pointy-chined head. Kurotsuchi, or whatever weird name she had, was really pretty. Not in the feminine way but still undeniably so. Hidan gave her a sassy smirk, one that was at least supposed to look flirty, at which she just raised an eyebrow and mumbled something about him being an asshole, before she vanished behind a door.   
“Please don’t start anything with her”, Deidara groaned, rolling their eyes.   
“What makes you think your sister is pretty enough for me?”  
The conversation stopped after this comment, luckily, Deidara wasn’t pissed off, but looked rather amused. The two left the house and walked a while, until they reached a little forest.  
“So, you’re letting this stuff explode out here in the fucking wilderness? I thought you would blow up some cars of annoying rich people or our teachers.”, he said disappointedly.  
“Well, we can do that if you want to, Hidan. If you think I’m a coward, you are bloody wrong! You don’t wanna know how many cars I have made explode!”  
“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”  
“It’s true, yeah! My dad’s a cop, he lets me get away with this shit! Ordinary people would go to juvie for all the stuff I’ve done, mnnn!  
“Then prove it!”  
“Ok, we’ll do that soon! First, I’ll show you what you have to do!”  
Deidara then gave him a little presentation and put a lighted square stick into one of the clay animals, a spider, to be precise, and threw it a few feet away from them. The thing made a nice little explosion, blue and purple sparks were flying in the air. It looked a little bit like New Year’s Eve, but in the afternoon and in a forest, which was definitely a weird location. Squirrels and birds were the only ones perturbed by this, though. People would have been a lot funnier.   
Hidan repeated what Deidara had just done, and he had to admit that It felt kinda good, relaxing. He could understand why this was blondie’s favorite free-time activity. Maybe Hidan should accompany them more often. At least one person at his school, were everyone seemed to collectively have a giant stick up their butts, seemed to be cool. Not like he expected to form a great friendship with Deidara, he was too bad at bonding with people, most of his former “friends” were people he took drugs with, sold drugs to, or bought drugs off, but it would still be nice to hang around with someone.   
“Ok, let’s try these ones, yeah. They make a way louder bang!”, Deidara proclaimed proudly.   
They took one of their self-built bombs inside of a clay cat and threw it into the distance. It exploded loudly, and when they heard the sound, Deidara grinned widely. It was strange how happy bombs and explosions could make this person. But Hidan had never cared about people being strange, why would he? Actually, he never got along with the normal ones.   
Hidan threw a few of the bombs himself, still finding the act of it pretty silly, but enjoyable. After a while, they left the forest, searched for a street far away enough for nobody to recognize them and pulled the hoods of their winter jackets over their heads and threw a few bombs there. They didn’t really destroy anything, expect for flowers in gardens and white walls. It would’ve been a lot more entertaining if they actually blew a car up, but one couldn’t have everything they wished for, apparently. Hidan was surprised that it didn’t happen a lot sooner, when a door opened and an old lady started screaming when she looked at her flowers and then yelled at them for destroying her holy property. She was followed by a middle-aged bald guy with a gun. As soon as they saw the gleaming metal, Hidan and Deidara ran away as fast as their feet could carry them. Shortly after, making sure the creep didn’t follow them, they started laughing. Hidan felt more alive in this moment than he had done in weeks, months, the last fucking year probably.


	5. Chapter 5

On the next Monday, Hidan decided to actually go to school and stay there, because he had to at least attend on some days, otherwise, everyone would grow suspicious. Or something like that. Konan wanted him to do it, anyway.   
“Promise me, Hidan, that you go to school as much as possible. You probably hate it there, but if you actually graduate here, you can get a job or even go to college.”  
Hidan didn’t give a fuck about any of these things.   
“Stop trying to safe me, you’re not my fucking guardian angel, goth girl.”  
Konan raised an eyebrow and glanced at him angrily.  
“You don’t have to do it for yourself, but you could at least do it for my parents. They really want to help you, believe me. Just give them a chance!”  
“You know what! I’m sick of people wanting to save me! Tell you what! Never gonna happen! You know why? Because I’m fucking broken, Konan. There’s no chance in the world for people like me.”  
“Hidan, I do not know what you went through, you’re right. But I didn’t always have it easy in life, either. It won’t get better if you never try.”  
“Well, ok, I’m going to your stupid fucking bigwig school if you’ll stop complaining. But believe me, sweetheart, you have no goddamn idea, not a single clue, what I have witnessed in this world. I’ve been with 13 foster families, I’ve seen dozens of therapists, your sad old father isn’t even a good one and you with your edgy purple hair and lip piercing are trying to tell me you know pain! Come on, Konan! You don’t have to play sibling with me!”  
Maybe he felt a little remorse for yelling at her like that, because, when he thought about his past “siblings”, apart from the fact that he couldn’t even remember all of their names and faces and really didn’t care to, she was the only one who had ever been genuinely nice to him. Because she wanted to. But Hidan was not ready to appreciate her sympathy, he didn’t know how to. Friendly people just creeped him out, because their predictability made them unpredictable in an unsettling way. Also, they were just so damn annoying!   
Konan looked a bit like she was starting to cry- but he guessed she was too proud for that.   
“Stop looking at me with these dog eyes, bitch! Since when have I ever been nice to you? You don’t wanna ruin your eyeliner.”   
After that, he felt guilty enough to actually enter the school building with her.  
The first subject he had this morning was English. Hidan had to sit in a class with approximately 20 other bored teenagers. Most faces were completely unknown to him, but he never put any effort in actually becoming a part of the school community or learn the names of his peers. This would be a waste of time for somebody who transferred to a new school every semester. Further, this was his last year of high school, anyway. All the bullshit would be over in summer.   
The only people he did recognize were Itachi, his cousin whose name he already forgot, Sasori and Kakuzu. The letter drew his eyebrows together arrogantly, when he glanced at Hidan. Ah, right. Probably, that guy was still angry at him for showing up wasted in front of his house, located in a ghetto on the edge of the city. The 4 Akatsuki kids were sitting in the front row, but Hidan had no desire to join them there. Unfortunately, the last two rows were already filled with a few kids who looked like they were falling asleep, the football jocks and the cheerleader chicks. Hence, he had to take a seat in the second row, next to a girl with a brunette bob who gave him a kind smile. Hidan didn’t smile back, instead he just leaned on the wall and stared at the book Konan had given him prior to class. Lord of the flies by William Golding.   
“Hello, you are Mr. Hidan De Villiers, I take it?”, asked the teacher. She pronounced it the same way a French person would, lacking an English accent. It was the original pronunciation of the surname he had from his adoptive family back in South Africa. Most people there had given it a completely butchering Afrikaans intonation. Here in America, many didn’t even try to make it sound correctly. Not like Hidan cared much. Sure, the name was pretty extravagant, but as long as he had this printed on his ID and not the feared “Scott”, he was happy about it.  
The woman was around the age of 30, the kind of teacher every boy had an awkward crush on in middle school and had long, thick auburn hair, turquoise eyes and pink lipstick. Her blue blouse and skirt were what could be called the absolute edge of work-appropriate. Just the kind of teacher you actually wanted to have, even though you still weren’t listening to a word she was saying.  
“Yes”, he responded.  
“I am Miss Terumi, your new English teacher. You already have our current lecture in your hand, that is a pretty good start. You were to read it last week, students. Can anyone sum up the plot for Hidan?”  
The arms of Itachi and Kakuzu immediately jumped into the air. He already knew Itachi was the biggest teacher’s pet of this entire school, because he had the best grades possible in every subject and was some kind of genius in general. Kakuzu was close behind him.   
“Itachi, please elaborate.”  
“Well, Lord of the flies depicts a group of young boys who are the only survivors of a plane crash and are stranded on a lonely island. The main characters a Ralph and Piggy, Ralph is their elected leader. At first, they try to organize themselves, collect food, go hunt, et cetera. But then, chaos takes over, a cruel boy named Jack becomes the new leader and the boys leave civilization and humanity behind. They think they are being hunted by a monster, which actually doesn’t exist and is a symbol for their inner evil. They hunt and kill a pig and when eating it, they kill another boy in ritualistic frenzy. After a huge fight, Piggy is also killed. Then, the boys are found by a British navy ship, collapsing and crying; the officer just tells them that he is disappointed in their behaviour. The novel shows how everyone can commit crimes if the rules of society are abandoned.”  
The story sounded interesting at least. An isolated group of people breaking bad and murdering others wasn’t new to him. Required reading that wanted to assess his traumas. Did he really deserve this?  
“Very good summary, Itachi. Thank you, dear. Now, Hidan, do you maybe have an opinion on this topic? Do you believe humanity is inherently evil and is only held up by the corset of society?”  
“People are egocentric assholes, so yeah. If they feel like they have a good reason to, they will do literally anything. Everyone can become a murderer, if we have someone who tells us killing is a good thing and will reward us for it. Rules can’t kill our darkness, I mean, haven’t we always murdered and raped and looted and fought against each other? Society ain’t no solution.”  
At his passionate speech, the whole class reacted with surprised staring. No one wanted to find out about their inner demons in English class that was only good for catching up on a few hours of sleep. A few girls giggled, the Akatsuki boys in the front row actually looked stunned because this was the first time Hidan had ever said anything in class, and a boy behind him murmured the word “psycho”.   
“Nice take, Hidan. Your opinion actually aligns with that of William Golding. This is why he wrote this book. It is supposed to show his experience on the true nature of our species.”  
Miss Terumi smiled lightly. Probably she was just glad he talked at all, since he had the word basket case written all over him and teachers had the talent of picking up on that vibe instinctively.   
Hidan had always found classic lit to be useless, but this book resonated with him deeply. It was unsettling, but fascinating nonetheless. Itachi commented all too happily on his opinion, mentioning Golding’s experience in world war 2 and the works of the philosopher Thomas Hobbes, like the ultimate nerd he was. Kakuzu then felt required to add to the conversation:  
“People are filled with greed and want things to turn out to their own benefit. Jack wants things to go his way in the novel and because of that, he does everything to stay in power, even murder is an acceptable tool for him. The others are too lost and looking for an authority figure, and thus all too happy to do anything he tells them. In the end, they act like scared little school boys when actually, they knew what they were doing the whole time, it just felt right to them in the moment, because they could establish their superiority in the chaos they were in. Yes, the boys have the potential to do evil inside of them, as everyone does, but they still chose to unlock it because they were greedy.”  
Hearing Kakuzu’s sinister words, a scene unfolded itself in front of Hidan’s inner eye. The man was around fifty, his hair had already fallen out, the brown leather jacket was dotted with blood from his shattered teeth. A blindfold was bound around his eyes and his wrists were tied to a stake in the middle of the room. His screams were quiet in comparison to their chants. Hidan held hands with his mother and Shikamaru.   
Lord Jashin, holy master, we bring you this sacrifice of human life because it proves our loyalty and delights you. We pray for your mercy and your pleasure in the innocent goal of our gracious gift. May his blood be your water and his flesh be your food. Grow strong as you feel your victim suffer the holy pain.  
An ear-shattering slash. Blood sprayed everywhere. Father held the red scythe high into the air, looking less and less human and more and more like the dark angel and prophet of Jashin he was. The sacrificer. The dead man was a nobody, just fresh meat for Jashin, and graciously, he would bring strength, procection and eternal life to his disciples.   
Hidan held his hands to his head and tried to force the memory away. It was hard to do so, when it was triggered like that. Fuck Kakuzu. Thank you for the guilt. As though he didn’t feel that emotion every day already.   
“Is it greed, or is it survival”, he said quietly, without raising his arm. Miss Terumi looked at him and turned pale.   
“Are you feeling unwell, Hidan? You certainly don’t look good. Maybe you should leave the room for a while?”  
He violently shook his head. Man, this was emberassing; now they knew he was a psycho. Hidan looked at the book on his desk and tried to focus on the fact that the letters in the word flies looked as though a right-handed guy had tried to write it with his left hand, but a thousand times uglier.   
Go away, mental breakdown. We don’t need you in class.  
Hidan didn’t hear a word of what was spoken during the rest of class and was glad to get out of the room when the bell finally rang, promising freedom for a few minutes that would be over far too soon. Unfortunately, just as he wanted to run out of that cursed classroom door, Uchiha 2.0 blocked his way. Whatever-the-hell-his-name-was turned around and smiled a gigantic clownish grin at the girl next to Hidan. She smiled back politely, but awkwardly.   
“Hey Rin! I wanted to ask if you have time this afternoon. We could go to McDonalds together.”  
Poor girl, who would want such a loser flirting with you? The Uchiha boy looked like he would piss his pants out of nervousness any second.  
“That’s nice of you, Obito, but my mom needs me at the ranch today. I need to take care of the horses.”  
Oh, horses! How cute! Rin looked more like a pre-teen girl than a 12. grader anyway, with her girlish smile, skinny statue, obvious lack of make-up and the brown clothes which looked like her mom had bought them for her. Fitting to Obito’s mental age.   
“Dude! She’s not interested! Get out of my way!”, Hidan spat and gave Obito a push with his shoulder, freeing his way.   
During break, he found the stones the Akatsuki kids were inhibiting again and sat down as well. Then, he put his phone out, scrolled through his Twitter feed for a few seconds and then put in his headphones, listening to “All nightmare long” by Metallica. The others were laughing around him. After a while, Obito attended too. He looked a little red in the face. Interested in what he had to say, Hidan put one headphone out of his ear.  
“I think Rin really isn’t interested in me anymore…”, Obito sighed loudly.  
“You should just confess your feelings to her, otherwise she will just be too polite to refuse.”, said Yahiko.   
“As long as she doesn’t go out with that idiot Kakashi…”, Obito replied.  
Konan suddenly stood up and gave him a hug, connecting with her inner mom friend again.  
“No, I don’t think that’s true at all. The two of them are just friends, and besides I don’t think Kakashi is really interested in her. That guy’s colder than ice cubes.”  
Oh wow. Boring as hell this conversation was. Hidan was about to put his headphones back in, when Kisame spoke:”Come on Tobi, don’t feel dragged down because of her. We sure don’t want you to turn into Deidara complaining about being lovesick for years.”  
“Deidara being lovesick? Since I’m new and they aren’t here right now, please elaborate”, meant Hidan.   
“That’s a long story…”, Konan began: ”Let’s just say Deidara has basically had this huge crush on Sasori since middle school, but Sasori doesn’t want to be in a relationship with them and just represses all of his emotions, like he usually does. They just have a really unhealthy, codependent friendship. They’re just a lot of drama to keep up with.”  
Actually, this knowledge explained a lot.   
“Yeah, Deidara and Sasori are just… complicated. We really wish Sasori would just pull the stick out of his ass and finally admit his feelings for Deidara, even if he’s a borderline sociopath and can’t accept the fact that Deidara isn’t female or that Deidara would finally get over this asshole. He’s our friend and all, but Sasori is very hard to keep up with. There’s a reason for why we are his only friends.”, Nagato said.   
Hidan knew almost nothing about Sasori, apart from the fact that he didn’t talk much and if he did, was very spiteful and mean. In a way, he was similar to Kakuzu. The giantic difference, in Hidan’s eyes, however, was that Sasori looked like a tiny, venomous ginger gremlin and Kakuzu had the appearance of a Rastafari without dreadlocks and with the most negative vibes imaginable.   
Obito still looked like a seething toddler, when he requested:”Konan, would you please invite Rin to your birthday party? I’m afraid I won’t see her anymore outside of school, because she always comes up with an excuse for why she can’t meet up with me!”  
“I’m really sorry, Tobi, but I don’t think Rin would feel comfortable at my party. She’s just not the type of person who enjoys big social events. Also, I’m not inviting any other girls and I’m not sure if she’s comfortable with that.”, Konan replied calmly.  
Oh, right, Konan’s birthday was coming up! He had heard Karen talk about it faintly, he only knew it was next Saturday, on the 20th, and all the Akatsuki would be there. Hidan had decided not to leave the house and attend her awful party, too, after learning that Jerry and Karen would visit the grandparents in the countryside, and take Camilo, Virgil and Prudence with them. With the right amount of booze, it could even turn into a funny evening, Hidan figured. All of these boring nerds had been sleeping on him! Hidan would gladly teach them how to party.


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later, during which nothing of essence happened, apart from the fact that Hidan had successfully found a dope dealer and was now the proud owner of a few grams of weed he hid between his clothes, he found a peculiar social media profile in his Instagram DMs. It had been a chill Thursday evening, the rain splashed mercilessly on the rooftop and was louder than Konan’s My Chemical Romance record blasting through the entire first floor. Hidan was humming to the melody of Mama while smoking a joint and drawing a little girl hanging from a tree, her head nearly dismembered from her body. Usually, people hated his gory artworks, depicting horrendous acts of violence, but he guessed that he could produce something Konan might actually like. As a birthday present. It felt ridiculous to even consider making a present for his new sister, he never did such a thing for his so-called temporary siblings, but Konan deserved it. Besides, he had no other things to offer apart from his ugly drawings. Apart from drugs, but he didn’t suspect her to be the kind to fall for this. He actually already had an idea, the inspiration of which had struck him while looking at Fletcher family pictures on the walls. One of them showed a pre-teen Konan, already with her insufferable purple hair dye nonetheless, in an angel costume. Angel was Konan’s nickname; at least for her parents and her boyfriend Yahiko. To return to the point, Hidan wanted to draw Konan as a gothic angel with an awesome sword and a lot of blood. In his head, the mental image looked stunning.   
Since Hidan was not able to concentrate on a single task for long periods of time, especially not when he was already slightly stoned, he looked at his phone and found a message on his Insta. Normally, he would ignore it, but the name he read immediately kicked all the adrenaline in his body to go berserk. Emma.hunterxx. Could it be? No, that was just a common name in the English language, certainly it was just one of those annoying porn bots and not what he grimly suspected. Taking a long breath, he klicked on the message and started reading.  
“Hey, my name is Emma Hunter and I wanted to ask if we maybe knew each other from childhood. Maybe I am just throwing names together, but are you by chance named Hidan Blackburn? If not, I’m sorry for bothering you, I was just really exicted about finding an old childhood friend.”  
Oh. For fuck’s sake. In the cursed name of Lord Jashin! It was her. Emma Hunter. He clicked at her profile. It was public. Her profile pic showed a bunch of red roses, while she had several snapshots from her and friends on her account. All normal teenager stuff. Her bio read: Emma Hunter, 20, Sydney. Emma still looked similar to the 15 year-old he remembered: she wore heavy make-up to cover her acne scars, had long, reddish hair and wore trendy tortoiseshell glasses. She looked happy, at least that was what the photos portrayed.   
Hidan couldn’t believe his own eyes. He feared that he was just hallucinating this and was getting a psychosis. That was a better explanation than this being true. One the other hand, why shouldn’t it be? You could find anyone on the internet if you searched for long enough.   
Should he ignore her, or just give an honest answer? He decided on doing the latter.  
“Yes, it’s me, Hidan. Just my surname isn’t Blackburn anymore. How ya doing, Emma?”  
“Fine, thank you. Do you, by any chance, know about what happened to Shikamaru?”  
Shikamaru… it was getting worse. Hidan didn’t know a thing about what his childhood best friend was doing, or even where he was doing it. To tell the truth, he had liked never wanted to find out anything about him, or Emma. Keeping their old friendship alive, even if it was solely via Social Media, hurt too much. After the day all those years ago, he had never heard anything about them again. And he was fucking glad. Because then, he didn’t have to feel bad about the happiness he had lost.  
“No, don’t know anything about Shika.”  
“Yeah, his mum is still in prison, so I guess he still lives with his father, in Tokyo.”  
“Your parents still behind bars?”  
“Yeah, mum will get out on probation in 3 years.”  
Hidan’s own parents, he was certain, would never see freedom again in their lifetime. His father had gotten lifelong, like 20 times and his mother was lifelong too. Not that it bothered him. The thought of them never being able to get into contact with him ever again, since he changed his surname and moved to another country, was oddly comforting. It felt like a good safety measure in case Cheryl Scott would miraculously get pardoned one day and come haunting him about not taking the cyanite capsule like a brave servant of Jashin would have done.   
“So, how’s life going?”  
“It’s pretty good, actually. I go to college and am a biology student now. Granny died last year, unfortunately, but she had a good sum of money, so Aiden and I live comfortably at her old house.”  
Aiden was Emma’s little brother. He would be 14 now.   
“I go to a high school in Maryland and live with foster family number 13. I hate ‘em all, essentially.”  
Hidan really wondered if Emma just pretended to be perfectly happy, or if it was just some good coping mechanism only she had discovered. She could try to be normal all she wanted, in the end he would always stay the girl who grew up in the Australian Outback mass murder cult. If she had been a few years older, she would rot in prison, just like all the others.  
Hidan put his phone away, feeling way too exhausted to engage in anymore conversation with her.   
Why did his old life always have to make him remember, and not just make him forget? Frankly, Hidan didn’t want any contact to her, and he didn’t care about what happened to Shikamaru. These people were his closest friends during his childhood, probably they would be able to understand them the most. However, he didn’t need them, or any other reminder of his past. Hidan decided to block Emma’s profile. It was better that way, really. Hidan was too afraid of how his psyche would react if he talked to somebody who had been through the same hell as him.


	7. Chapter 7

Today was Konan’s 18th birthday. Sitting on the breakfast table, her parents hugged her a trillion times and told her how much they loved her, until the toddler started crying like a baby seal because he was upset for not getting any attention. The amount of presents they gave to her was ridiculous, but for a rich suburban family, this was probably normal. Hidan wouldn’t know. None of his families had ever liked him enough to care about mundane things like birthday gifts. When Hidan glanced at the dresses, the Edgar Alan Poe story collection, the Kat von D perfume and eyeliner, the Sisters of Mercy vinyl record, the new phone and the obligatory bottle of lilac manic panic hair dye, he felt a little tilt of anger when he gave her the angel drawing he had actually finished. 

He was even sort of proud of the drawing, since he had actually finished it until this day without losing interest and doing something else, but Konan probably couldn’t care less about an ugly portrait of her. However, when he handed it to her, she made a happy squieking sound and hugged him. Hidan quickly pulled her arms away.   
“I didn’t expect you to give me a present. Thanks, Hidan. I really like it. Wasn’t aware you could draw.”

She was probably just lying about liking his style. Hidan knew he wasn’t good at it. The only thing he did was drawing cartoon-like figures with a lot of gory details, wounds, and blood. He sucked at realism and proportions or stuff like shading. Further, he wasn’t even that interested in art, he just used this to blow off steam and yeah, it was some form of self-therapy. Still, it was the only skill Hidan even remotely had. In all other aspects, he was an absolute failure. 

Karen and Jerry spent the rest of the morning with decorating the house, throwing air balloons all around the house and putting all the china and vases and everything else that looked like Deidara might want to blow it up away. They probably did this on purpose. Around noon, the Fletchers finally left the house and left Hidan and Konan in peace.   
Yahiko came an hour later, the others were supposed to arrive a few hours later, at around 4 pm. While Yahiko had already brought along a few bottles of gin and vodka, but they didn’t start drinking yet. Hidan decided to leave the two alone, as he didn’t exactly want to watch them fucking on the couch or something. 

Later, the door finally rang, revealing the Uchiha cousins; they were too early, but Itachi seemed to be the type to show up before he was supposed to out of anxiety for being late. Obito was just being dragged along, since he was the kind of person to be three hours late for no apparent reason or just mysteriously never show up at all. Itachi was pretty as always, his long black hair in an orderly ponytail, wearing black skinny jeans and a black blouse with tiny red clouds printed on it. He looked gay, but sophisticated, like he always did. Hidan had feared he would show up in the dark-blue suit that made him look like a barely closeted physics professor from the 70s he used to wear for school. Obito, on the other hand, wore jeans and t-shirt and stared around dumbly, like he always did. 

They gave Konan a hug and congratulated her, then showed her two presents. She set them on a separate table, next to the abundance of gifts by Yahiko.   
It didn’t take long for Kisame, Sasori, Deidara, Nagato and even Kakuzu to arrive as well. Hidan examined their outfit choices for the evening as well. Kisame looked like the usual jock he was, with his blue college jacket, it looked nice, but basic. Hidan awarded it a glorious 5/10. Nagato was his usual goth self, similar to Yahiko but without the facial piercings. His blood-red hair was longish and stuck to his face like it had three litres of hair spray in it. He would still get a bonus point for the Misfits hoodie he was wearing, though. Sasori wore blue jeans and a black polo shirt, probably the ugliest combination out of all of them. Deidara, however, showed up in a white lace dress, blue Dr. Martens, a huge rose gold necklace with a tarot card on it, and a shade of green lipstick that matched the color of their gigantic claws that were called nails. His eyeliner extended to the edge of their face, like Siouxie Sioux would wear it in the 80s. Hidan applauded when he saw this glorious outfit. A 10/10. No debate possible. 

Kakuzu was dressed simple, but still he caught his attention just as much as Deidara, because his clothing looked like he had an appointment with a future boss he wanted to impress, and not an eighteenth birthday. He wore black suit pants and a white linen shirt with a light green sleeveless wool sweater, in perfect harmony with his eye color. Not that this shit surprised him, coming from a guy like Kakuzu, but who dressed like that for a party? Even Itachi had had the common sense to go for a more casual look than this intriguing monstrosity. Hidan hoped that he would get way to drunk and puke all over the ugly sweater, so that he could never show up in it for a job interview.   
Ok, to be fair, Hidan’s outfit wasn’t extraordinary either, he wore his black ripped jeans with the pant chain, his red and black flannel and a black Marilyn Manson shirt underneath. He had put enough grease in his hair to deserve a lead role in that film, with the same name. Hidan had never watched it, but his hair was certainly styled enough to qualify as an actor. His thoughts stopped making sense, he thought. Time to get wasted; the obvious solution for everything.   
First, the guys wanted to eat. Hidan decided against it. While Konan and Itachi were busy putting the burgers on a plate, Hidan already opened himself a beer and downed it in one gulp. The others looked at him, shocked.

“What’s up, losers? I’m still gonna be sober when you guys are lying on the floor in a coma!”

“Are you challenging me?”, Deidara asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not you personally, princess, but if you think you can keep up with me, you can try.”

Deidara immediately grabbed the next beer and also drank it in one drag, but even though they tried to hide it, their facial expression showed how disgusting it tasted.   
Hidan actually really enjoyed the food. Konan’s burgers were quite amazing. Unfortunately, she, Nagato and Yahiko would only eat the vegan ones, because they were cool, vegan goth kids. 

The table conversation started with boring talk about school. Hidan was not used to parties were people were sitting on a table in a civilized manner, talking about everyday small talk and eating their burgers with a glass of Fanta next to them. Normally, everybody was drunk after an hour. He would have to wait with that, but still, he would not lead anybody escape from this house sober. 

“But, seriously though, did any of you guys know, that Miss Terumi is having an affair with Mrs. Inuzuka?”,Nagato asked with a serious look.

“Dafuck? Where did you get that information from”, Deidara wanted to know.

“Yeah, I heard about it, too. Terumi was always complaining about men always abandoning her, so I guess it was a logical consequence to turn towards lesbianism”, Kisame answered knowingly. Miss Terumi, Hidan’s English teacher? And the other woman? Who was she? The math teacher, maybe?

“I didn’t even know Mrs. Inuzuka was a lesbian”, said Obito.

“Of course she is, stupid.”, was Sasori’s humble answer.

“Yeah, Hana told all the girl’s about it on Ino’s birthday”, Konan threw in. 

Hidan didn’t even know those names and didn’t care to identify them. 

The pretty English teacher he remembered, though. She was bearable, at least. Unlike the rest of this motherfucking yuppie school.   
“But what about Kiba’s and Hana’s father?”, Obito asked, dumbstruck. Kisame facepalmed himself. 

“Tobi, you didn’t know that the two of them were created through in vitro fertilization?”, Itachi asked, his face was calm but his voice sounded like a strict teacher, mocking a student for not coming up with an easy solution. 

“Oh cool! Just like Jesus Christ”, Hidan yelled, holding up his third beer can. He was not even tipsy yet, but he was already in the mood to annoy them. 

“It’s not like I am particularly educated on Christianity, but I am pretty sure this is not what they mean by ‘virginal birth’.”, Itachi commented stoically. 

“Seriously, babe? I doubt that there is any topic out there you are not particularly educated on”, Kisame whined, planting a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. Disgustingly sweet, those two.   
“Get yourselves a room!”, shouted Sasori. 

After a while of further ridiculous talk about school stuff and people completely unknown to Hidan, who had already had 6 beer and three burgers, Konan turned the music up and grabbed the bottle of vodka. It was some kind of goth music, Hidan was certain he knew the song, but he couldn’t categorize it at the moment. It sounded like something he would find a spotify playlist when he was having another sleepless night and was laying awake at four a.m.   
Konan then proceeded to give everyone a little shot glass and filled it with vodka.   
Then, they all held their glasses up and Yahiko talked a pathetic little speech about how she was the best girlfriend ever, so beautiful and so nice, how he didn’t deserve her and how he had been in love with her since they went to kindergarten together; all while Hidan seriously considered grabbing the vodka bottle and pouring it down like it was ice tea on a hot summer day.   
Then everybody poured down their shot, except for Itachi who didn’t drink. At least Obito and Kakuzu looked like they hated the strong alcoholic taste, which Hidan found to be quite amusing. 

“Let’s play truth or dare!”, Deidara suggested enthusiastically.

The others agreed and sat down, on the ugly Persian carpet this time, to play.   
“Ok, so, I am reading the questions from my phone, everyone will decide if they want truth or dare first, and if they don’t want to do it, they’ll have to take a sip from their glass. Gothic princess then proceeded to fill everybody’s glass with peach liquor in a pink bottle, that looked like it was some trendy kawaii stuff fresh out of Shibuya. It smelled like a lollipop, but it would do its job just fine. 

Nagato was the first one. He chose truth, because he was probably a fucking boring loser and only looked like an edgy goth boy. 

“Ok”, Konan began, “if you had to walk around naked forever or have your thoughts appear above your head in a bubble, which would you choose?”

What lame fuckery of a question was this? Deciding he was not nearly intoxicated enough for this kindergarten game, Hidan downed his glass and refilled it. He was not the biggest fan of sweet, sugary beverages, but it was fine. 

“I guess I’d rather go naked, you know, privacy of thoughts and stuff.”, Nagato answered.

What was fake ginger goth talking about? Nobody wanted to see his pale body that looked like a thirteen year old girl with an eating disorder. Even real ginger goth would look better naked! That one at least had muscles!  
And why the fuck was he now having disgusting gay thoughts about his foster sister’s boyfriend? These people were impossible…   
Now it was Sasori’s turn, the creepy ginger. To be truthful, Hidan really had grown a liking to Deidara, but how they could get a crush on this lowlife gremlin was an unsolvable riddle to him. Sasori looked like a venomous dwarf and had the personality of one, as well.   
“Truth as well, for me”, he mumbled. 

Konan skipped a few questions in a suspicious way, until she found one that seemed to satisfy her needs. 

“Sasori, have you ever… have you ever considered dating someone who is in this room right now? If so, who?”

Sasori’s eyebrows were raised and he bit the thin line of his lip while he glared angrily at Konan. But he was not the only one glaring angrily at her right now, since Deidara was doing the same. Konan smiled awkwardly.

“Hell no, Konan! I do not! When will you finally get this through your thick skull? Why am I even fucking here?!”

“Ok, fine, sorry. You can just drink if you don’t want to answer, jerk!”

Finally, it was Hidan’s turn. He would finally take dare and hopefully get to do something interesting, while these pussies could not even play the game the way it was intended.   
“Well, my app tells me you have to eat a banana, but, seductively. Let me see if we have some in the kitchen.”

“What, you think your mama doesn’t have enough vegetables… that bitch is a secret vegan but to embarrassed to tell anyone about it.”

“Did that maggot just say bananas are vegetables! He is so stupid he doesn’t even know what a fruit is!”, Kakuzu said to Sasori, in a voice clearly intended to be loud enough for everyone to hear it. 

Had he just called him a maggot? What kind of 18th century insult was that?

“Well, I feel sorry for you if you do not know better insults than this, since you think you’re so smart, fuckface!”

Konan got him a banana and since Hidan was a man who took his tasks seriously, he tried to give the banana the best blowjob he could, trying to do all kinds of motion with his tongue he knew from porn because that one time he had tried giving someone head was not worth glorifying. Instead of orgasms, they had just gotten an angry father with a gun, and that was really not a memory he was keen on reliving now. Fuck his brain!

The whole time, though, he tried to look Kakuzu directly in the eye, to provoke him for his earlier words, and the guy looked like a was super annoyed and about to beat him up. Unfortunately, he was a little rough with the banana, and its tip fell down. While he ate the rest, even though he actually despised banana, the others laughed.

“Oh, sorry, next time, Itachi should show me how to do it, first.”, he commented, receiving exactly the angry look he had hoped for, from both him, and Kisame.


End file.
